


Warm

by neverlandlumos



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, PWP, extreme sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverlandlumos/pseuds/neverlandlumos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're like a fuckin' heater, Kurosaki," the Arrancar drawls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm

**Author's Note:**

> neverlandlost.tumblr.com

Grimmjow looms over him, the arch of his back is almost feline, his stark-blue eyes are considerably darker with his lust. Ichigo's hands tighten at his waist, fingers scrunching the white robes between his fingers, holding on -- as though needing a physical proof the Arrancar is really here -- and watches in a desirable haze as Grimmjow's mouth parts, the bottom lip plump and kiss swollen.

"Ichigo," he murmurs, and settles more comfortably on top of him. The use of his first name, not _Kurosaki_ or _Shinigami_ forces him to meet the other's intense gaze. The Arrancar's weight pins him to the bed, but it feels so good, and it's so _warm_ , his own skin is clammy and feverish, while Grimmjow's is cooler, like a enjoyable refreshment.

Ichigo bites back a moan when Grimmjow runs his tongue -- which reminds him of a cat's tongue, the feel of it is slightly rough -- down the column of his neck, before suckling at his pulse point, which thuds like a drum. Grimmjow rolls his hips against Ichigo, groaning from behind his teeth as he continues to worship the skin of his collarbone. Ichigo exhales heavily through his nose and tries -- and fails, obviously -- to concentrate on the other man. He slips a hand under the white jacket and scratches softly up and down the broad expanse of Grimmjow's back.

The Arrancar hums appreciatively and kisses him forcefully. Ichigo parts his lips immediately and moans as his tongue slides alongside Grimmjow's, the slick heat of the other man's mouth against his own has him cupping the blue head with a firm, sure palm, tilting it slightly to he can kiss Grimmjow back as passionately as he pleases. Teeth nibble slightly at his lips, and Ichigo chuckles, before running his hands down, down, to the firm cheeks of Grimmjow's arse.

Grimmjow works his arms out of his rather pointless jacket, hooking his fingers under Ichigo's flimsy night shirt, and presses their chests together. Ichigo feels the cool skin against his own, and sighs pleasurably. His fingers follow the scar the _he_ left on the Arrancar's chest, over his nipples -- which earns him a shaky inhale -- before running soft, tentative fingers around the Hollow hole in the middle of his abdomen.

"Fuck," Grimmjow moans, earning himself a grin that Ichigo knows he couldn't have held back. The taut thighs that bracket his own tremble slightly as Ichigo grows more bold, slipping his fingers inside, just teasing the edges and back out again. Grimmjow grabs his cheek fiercely and kisses him again, noisily, rutting against Ichigo's now strained pyjama shorts.

Ichigo regards the man on top of him beneath his lashes, "You wanna?"

Grimmjow peers down at him and snorts rudely, "Of course I wanna, you idiot. You think I came here for a cup of fuckin' tea?"

Their lips meet again, eagerly, and Ichigo's hips buck when Grimmjow sucks on his tongue. He pulls away and raises an eyebrow, "Lube?"

Ichigo reaches under the bed and gives the Arrancar the tube and a condom, who places them beside himself, fingers dancing over the edge of Ichigo's shorts, teasingly, before dragging them down his thighs. Ichigo watches with some kind of aroused fascination when Grimmjow arches his body, breaking their contact to completely remove them, before wriggling out of his own pants, shoes already forgotten.

The lid of the lubricant snaps open and Ichigo tenses, briefly, as he has never had _real sex_ with someone before. He's kissed, certainly, but he can honestly say he's never had a dick up his arse, or even a finger. Ichigo blushes furiously, recalling a quick, hasty internet search about the mechanics of anal sex and wonders how on earth _that_ is going to fit.

 _That_ , being Grimmjow's erect cock, which is larger than his own, the tip flushed a rosy pink. He watches, entranced, as Grimmjow slicks his cock with the lube, before reaching out with a surprisingly gentle hand and doing the same to Ichigo. Whatever breath that was in his lungs comes out in a whoosh, and he groans loudly as a skilled thumb rubs at the slit of his cock, and the ridges underneath, over and over, until he's left panting and leaking. 

His eyes slip shut as he attempts to regain some sense of control and takes a deep, calming breath when he hears more lubricant being squeezed out of the already half-empty tube -- Grimmjow has been a rather frequent visitor in Ichigo's last night jerk off sessions, though he'll never tell the other man out of fear it will only make his monstrous ego even worse -- and yelps when Grimmjow's mouth slides over the head of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, and his hips stutter upward, prompting a strong arm to drape itself over his abdomen to pin him to the bed, and gasps when Grimmjow meets his eyes, more of his cock sliding between his lips. Ichigo cups the back of his head, eyes wide and unseeing as the velvety heat around his cock throbs and throbs, sending pleasure around his body like fireworks, and tries not to come down Grimmjow's throat. The Arrancar pulls off and gives him a supremely cheesy grin, eyes flickering over his face -- which Ichigo knows, is probably horribly read with exertion and arousal -- and presses their lips together in a sweet, gentle kiss.

He can hear Grimmjow fumbling with the condom, and tenses again, worried that Grimmjow has completely bypassed the preparation stage and he frets, remembering the many articles on the internet stating that preparation is a _must_ and even the most experienced of bed partners almost always require it but halts when he notices that Grimmjow is rolling the condom on _his_ cock.

"Wha -- " He manages, but Grimmjow cuts him off with his tongue, plundering his mouth.

Thighs shift up his torso slightly, and hands brace themselves against his chest, and before Ichigo even recognises what is happening, Grimmjow lines himself up and slides down on Ichigo's cock in a smooth, easy move.

"Oh my god," Ichigo groans, fingers curling around his hips, " _Grimmjow_."

Grimmjow smirks down at him and experimentally rolls his hips, "Heh."

Ichigo smiles up at him, waiting for Grimmjow to adjust to the intrusion, but isn't left waiting long, as the Arrancar lifts himself up and down easily, his breath hitching every time he meets Ichigo's hips.

"Thrust," Grimmjow braces his weight on his hands, which are placed on either side of Ichigo's head, "Thrust up into me."

It takes them a few thrusts to make an easy rhythm, though Ichigo doesn't even know how he's managing it, he can't take his eyes off of Grimmjow's face, that is slack with pleasure, his expression soft and fond, so very different than his usual manic grin and teasing eyes. Grimmjow pants, his lips parted, as he meets Ichigo's gaze.

He raises his legs behind Grimmjow and fucks into him with more force, and Grimmjow's back arches deliciously, and the soft beads of sweat that gather at his temples trickles slowly down the ridges of his jaw, and Ichigo is tempted to run his tongue along the ridge. He grabs the back of Grimmjow's head and presses wet, open mouthed kisses against his lips, over his cheeks, and down his neck.

"Ah, ah," Grimmjow moans, grinding his hips down and against Ichigo's, "Just there, _fuck._ "

Ichigo's knees begin to rumble at the strain of thrusting his hips, but he snags Grimmjow's prostate forcefully every time, enjoying the sounds that pour from Grimmjow's throat, seemingly without inhibition. He slides a sweaty hand between them and runs his fingers over the head of Grimmjow's cock, softly, teasingly, biting his lip hard enough to bleed when Grimmjow _whimpers_ out, "Please, please, please."

He can feel his own balls rise up against his body as Grimmjow begins to tighten impossibly around him, and watches his fingers press against the slit of Grimmjow's cock through half-lidded lust heavy eyes and smirks in smug self-satisfaction when Grimmjow's head sags forward, thighs tightening around Ichigo's torso and his cock as a thick stream of come shoots from the tip of his cock, to land on Ichigo's chest.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Grimmjow seethes behind gritted teeth, eyes clamped shut. His mouth drops open when Ichigo forces him to ride out the orgasm by jacking his cock harshly, "Ichigo, _oh_!"

The pressure around his sides lessens, and Grimmjow spreads his legs apart, again, and rolls his hips to get Ichigo back into it, allowing him to thrust into him. Grimmjow lets out soft little groans of pleasure as Ichigo still repeatedly nails his prostate, and tightens himself purposefully around Ichigo's cock, ducking his head to suck at the tender skin behind Ichigo's ear.

"You feel so good, Kurosaki," Grimmjow murmurs into his ear, and it's so _filthy_ , his voice dripping with genuine lust and Ichigo bites down on the shoulder in front of him as he feels the first surge of orgasm pound its way through his veins, balls drawn, spilling inside that exquisite heat.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo moans, baring his neck as the Arrancar leaves little love bites as he goes, "Oh my god," he says, again, and feels the rest of his climax spill out of him as though breaking through like a wall of a dam, hips jerking erratically upward, pinning Grimmjow's hips to his own with strong hands he only uses for battle and falls back against the bed with a lazy, drawn-out sigh.

"Heh," Grimmjow smirks down at him, and winces a tad when Ichigo's spent cock slides out of him. He quickly removes the condom and ties it, somehow managing to muster up enough strength to throw it in the bin and drags up the blanket that is messily strewn half on the bed and half off and curls up next to Ichigo with a sigh of contentment.

"You're like a fuckin' heater, Kurosaki," the Arrancar drawls.

"Hmm," Ichigo can't even think of something to say to that, worn out as he is. "Thanks."

"Hmm," Grimmjow echoes, and promptly falls asleep, hogging the blanket.


End file.
